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Topic: You don't say (Read 6018 times)

The walk back to threshold was uneventful save for the occasional bandaging, breath catching and the deep blue glow that could be seen emanating from the pouch that held the Eye. It had never glowed that bright and he felt more than a bit anxious and twitchy. Laren's mind wouldn't stop. He knew that he had to destroy the Eye of Portence, but he had no idea how to do it.

The sounds of the Thornhedge seemed distant as he walked through the door, looking at the ground. He absently ordered a beer and sat at a table alone. There had to be some way to destroy that thing...

For the first time in what seemed to be hours, he looked up from the floor. It was like he'd suddenly woken up in the middle of a party. The place was rather busy.

He scanned the crowd. The mood was light. People we happy and laughing and eating. They had no idea that each day their quaint little lives were in danger.

One fellow stood out from the crowd like a plucked chicken in a grass skirt.

... he always thought that was a strange saying...

Laren caught Sayer's attention and waved him over to join him at the table.

Laren's eyes scanned the floor of the room in his immediate area. He saw the pouch on the floor a few feet away. It sat there lifeless, and more importantly light-less. Breath returned to Laren's chest.

The thought crossed Laren's mind that although Sayer was perfectly aware that Laren had just tumbled out of his chair, was considerabley unconcerned. Laren wasn't offended or anything, just found it odd.

Laren cleared his throat and let go of his chest.

"Ah," he said as he straightened his shirt, trying to remove the wrinkles he'd just created. "Oh, yes. That was my father. He's the one you're talking about? The one who has taken ill?"

Laren couldn't help cracking a bit of a grin as he bent down and picked up the pouch. He took the thing, silently cursed it for the umpteenth time ahd dropped it into his pants pocket.

"I suppose you could say he's taken ill." Laren sat back down at the small table.

"He suffered quite a bit because of this thing," he said, patting his pocket. "A woman named Crimson wants the Eye. She killed my father, and I believe she now stalks me as well. I would like to be rid of it before she finds us. If I survive destroying the Eye, I should be able to survive her visit as well."

There was really little point in sugar coating anything anymore. Laren now believed enough in Sayer's abilities with the runes that he also believed anything Sayer was not told, he would eventually figure out anyway. At least being up front about everythying would save time.

Sayer had returned his attention to the table after Laren mentioned Kit's injury. The earth rune and moon rune were near to each other, indicating an emotional closeness. Sayer was formulating a tactful inquiry about Laren's relationship with Kit when Laren abruptly and noisily tumbled out from his chair to the ground.

Sayer stared stupidly at Laren. Sayer was surprised by this sudden action and was alarmed by the force that Laren's head had his the wooden floor. Before Sayer could speak, he became even more surprised by the halfling's sudden recovery to his feet. As Laren clutched his chest and struggled for air, Sayer reached a hand out to him but immediately withdrew it in startled surprise as Laren growled.

It was then that the answer clicked in Sayer's mind. The Eye. The runestones. The reading. "Laren, you knew the person who possessed the Eye of Portence. You knew this person. The Eye was given to you by this person. Someone close to you."

Laren gasped and clutched his chest. The sudden jolt of reality shocked him so greatly it sent him toppling over backwards in his chair. His head introduced itself to the hard wooden floor with the kind of thump only a skull hitting wood could make.

He tried to quickly scramble to his feet, and after another stumble he succeeded. He grasped as his chest with both hands and breathed heavily. As the reality of what was going on set it, anger swell within him. With a gutteral grwol he considered smashing the eye against the floor like he had his head.

Anger flew away and was replaced with dread as he realized he was no longer holding the pouch containing the Eye of Portence.

As the pouch swung a dark blue light began to pulse from within through the fabric of the pouch. It was a rythmic pulse echoing the timing of a heartbeat.

In a familiar flash, Laren could suddenly see himself lying in a forest. A shot of infinite pain thundered through his body and he could see the Eye being pulled from the left side of his chest by bloodied hands.

Before he knew it, he was sitting at the table with Sayer...awake from the brief nightmare.

Sayer turned slowly to face Laren. "This is what I see," he said, pointing to the three stones closest to where the halfling stood:

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"These three stones are your origin. It is from where you have come; it is where you are now. When we connect the stones," Sayer said, tracing an imaginary line over the stones with his finger, "we have a triangle."

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"Moon, earth, earth," Sayer continued. "All diminutive runes. Among its many meanings, the moon is the rune of emotion. There is an anchoring (right) angle between the moon and the two earths, so this emotion is strong. Because the moon rune is diminutive, then I would think that the emotion itself is not necessarily welcomed. I interpret this as the acquisition of a troubling emotion within your recent past.

"The earth rune is symbolic of the physical world, governing health and wealth. We have two such runes, and they are both diminutive. A diminutive earth rune typically means a reduction or a loss --" Sayer suddenly fell silent. He slowly cocked his head as he studied the stones. "Someone you know recently took ill," he whispered.

"The past???" The words spilled out of his mouth in incredulity before Laren could stop them. He also realized that he was making a face as if someone had just asked him to ingest fetid animal remains.

"Sayer," Laren said, shaking his head. "Everything I'm trying to do here, is for the future. I fail to see how what I'm doing can be considered dwelling in the past." He realized he might have sounded like he didn't believe Sayer knew what he was doing.

"Of course, I don't doubt that that's what the stones say to you, but they must be wrong. Perhaps they were effected by this thing?" he lifted the pouch again and let is swing slowly. Heavily.

Sayer studied Laren for a moment before responding. He named the gem so casually that Sayer had wondered if Laren truly understood what was in his possession. Sayer had sensed its power within this room. It had focused on the reading; it was cognizant of the casting.

It was cognizant. A chill of fear spread through Sayer as he came to this realization. The legendary Eye of Portence was here in this room, and it was aware of us. Did it listen to our words? Did it watch our actions? Sayer recalled Laren's exhibited uneasiness and nervous chatter throughout the evening; perhaps Laren did understand what was in his possession.

Sayer realized that he had been staring at Laren, who in return had been staring expectantly at him. Sayer blinked, then rolled his head to look at the table surface. After confirming that all six stones were on the table, Sayer noted the rune types and their placement in relation to each other. He then began tracing imaginary paths between the stones with his eyes. As he appraised stones, Sayer was reminded of the comments that Laren had made throughout the evening: his desire to destroy the Eye; his acknowledgment that there were those who wished to obtain the Eye for themselves at any cost; Laren's commitment to completing this task; and his willingness to sacrifice his own well-being to complete this task.

Sayer turned casually away from the table so that his back was towards Laren. He took a moment to compose himself and tried to conceal his alarm.

"The Eye of Portence," he said hollowly. "You are in possession of the Eye of Portence."

It was even more difficult to read the man now... Was that fear? Anger? Disbelief? Gas? Laren had a very hard time not cracking a smile in spite of the situation with that last thought. He hoped that he would always be able to find humor.

"Yes, I am. That's what's in the bag." Laren lifted the pouch up a bit. "And I'd really like to be not! Ashe said that the best idea is to destroy it, which would be very difficult... " He caught himself before he started to get flustered and babble.

After a deep breath Laren looked at the stones again and said "So what do they say?"

Sayer stepped around the side of the table. He had regained his composure, but his breath was still rapid. "Laren," he breathed, his voice low and slightly strained, "earlier while we were downstairs, you had mentioned that you were in possession of an item: a magical or psionic item -- I believe those were your words -- that becomes linked to the individual who touches it." Sayer motioned to the pouch at Laren's side. "Was this the item that you held out to me? The item is in that pouch?"